


Me And My Husband

by Whistlesnbells



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Failed Marriage, Some Fluff, but this is NOT a jeff/annie fic i assure you so please dont be mad at me, im tagging it as jeff/annie because it is technically present, mentions of alcohol but in a healthy adult way, some mentions of drug use, sorry i just think that their marriage would really just never work out and its sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27141610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whistlesnbells/pseuds/Whistlesnbells
Summary: Imaginary Annie looked back at him sullenly, a glimmer of pain and regret in her eyes."Do you have any idea what I want?"Alone, in the darkness of the old study room, all he could do was wish to god that he did.
Relationships: Annie Edison/Britta Perry, Annie Edison/Jeff Winger, Britta Perry & Jeff Winger
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Me And My Husband

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to explore the dynamic of these to if they actually HAD decided to go ahead with a relationship after the finale. What would have worked between them? What wouldn't have? So, have this lmao. Inspired by Mitski's "Me and My Husband."

The orange pill bottle gleamed in the soft light of the morning sun. It cast a bright yellow shadow on the counter below, looking almost beautiful, in a twistedly ironic way. It resided on the kitchen counter less so Annie wouldn’t forget to take her medication before work, and more so she wouldn’t actively avoid it. She needed the medication. She couldn’t do her job without it. Yet, looking at the damned thing made her heart jump into her head, and promptly drop all the way into her feet. She lost the courage she had gathered, and decided to start on breakfast instead. Pancakes. Abed would be thrilled.

———————

Anne Edison-Winger spent most mornings alone. She arose hours before her husband, fancied herself up, and arrived at the field office at seven am sharp. Jeff, on the other hand, usually began his day somewhere around ten, to arrive at Greendale for his afternoon classes. He came home soon after, and sat down to do what little lesson planning he needed in order to barely keep his job. The dean wasn’t exactly hard to impress. 

His days were much shorter nowadays, now that there were no committee meetings or crazy antics to deal with. It was as simple as going in, getting it over with, and getting out. Annie’s days were not that simple. There was training to do, calls to deal with, evidence to assess. Her days were nothing if not long, chaotic, and exhausting. Still, she composed herself each day for long enough to make dinner for the two of them and crash hard afterwards, falling asleep to the music of her husband’s heartbeat. 

It was the in-betweens that were the hardest part. As the years went by, Jeff’s lesson plans needed less and less perfecting. He stopped needing to ask his wife for help when he made his quizzes. He stopped asking her if he was being too harsh with their essays. He fell into a comfortable pattern of teaching, and it worked. His students were learning. 

The first time Jeff realized this, he was quietly excited. Easy skating was his favorite thing, and he had finally reached that point through hard work- not cheating. Annie would be so proud of him.  _ Annie _ . He had so much more time on his hands, and he just couldn’t  _ wait  _ to spend it with her. 

Each day, he would pour a scotch for himself, and sip on it while watching TV until she came home. But each day, the hours grew longer, and his scotch grew lukewarm. Today was no different. He sat on the couch, with a scotch in his hand, waiting. 

Suddenly, he got tired. 

He stopped. 

The door clicked shut behind him as the scotch on the table grew warm.

——————————

It didn’t surprise Annie the first time she walked into an empty apartment. Jeff wasn’t a man of many schedules, and no matter how many google calendars she tried to share with him, it never really stuck. It bothered her, but how could she blame him, he would argue, it’s just who he is. And she loved him for who he was. 

She undid her button down slowly and replaced it with a softer, worn-out t-shirt. Truth be told, Annie still fussed over her appearance with Jeff. She knew she didn’t have to work so diligently for his attention anymore, but old habits died hard. If she was being honest, part of her thought back to all of the prettier girls he had been with before her, and, well, it was difficult to squash her competitive spirit. She felt guilty, but she enjoyed the moments when she didn’t have to look beautiful for anyone but herself. 

She curled up on the couch with a mug of warm tea in her hand. She held it close to her face as the steam rose, the scent of chamomile tickling her nose. She smiled and turned on a hallmark movie.

_ I can’t wait for Jeff to get home.  _

—————————-

Jeff parked his car on the street next to the Vatican and slipped some coins in the meter. Dragging his feet through the cloudy puddles on the concrete, he meandered towards the door. The bells chimed as he swung the door open, and he breathed a sigh of relief as a familiar voice greeted him.

“Crawling back for your daily fix, huh, Winger?”

Jeff was careful not to let a smile slip to his lips, but god, it felt good to feel a smidge of normalcy. “Shut up, you’re lucky I even remembered what shift you were working.”

Britta groaned jokingly, and grabbed a glass to start making him a Manhattan. “One day, you’re gonna have to drop the whole  _ ‘oh! I’m Jeff and I don’t care about anyone but myself!’ _ act one day. Especially with the whole,” She lazily gestured towards him in a circle, “nuclear… thing you’ve got goin’ on there.”

“Marriage, Britta,” Jeff raises an eyebrow, “you mean my marriage.”

Britta topped the drink with a maraschino cherry and slid it over to him. “Matrimony, family, captivity, they’re all just words, really.” She chuckled, “God, please remind me to  **never** say that in front of Annie. I think she’d have my head.”

“You can say that again,” Jeff sighed heavily, picking the maraschino out of his drink and laying it on the napkin beside him. 

“Well Jesus, that was depressing, what happened there?”

“Nothing, nothing  _ happened,  _ it’s just,” He ran his hand down his face, as if to hide himself from the guilt he felt, “I’m just not used to it, you know? I mean, not that I don’t like it, I love it. I love  _ her. _ ”

“But?” Britta probed, silently excited that Jeff didn’t immediately grill her for playing therapist. 

“I guess I’m just so used to having a way out. An escape route, a plan b. This is something that I can’t just worm my way out of when I get wigged out. I don’t  _ want  _ to worm my way out of it. But part of me feels like I need to keep, I don’t know,  _ walls _ up, just in case. There’s gotta be something wrong with that.”

When he looked up from his drink, Britta had a proud (and somewhat smug) smile on her face. 

He groaned, unamused. “You’re not seriously going to pull some psych shit, are you?”

“Jeff Winger, that is the  **most** I have ever heard you talk about your feelings.” 

“Yeah, well don’t expect me to pay you.”

Britta leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter as she attempted a softer, more personal approach.

“Jeff, have you told Annie any of this?”

“Do you  **know** her? She’ll flip out and take it all too personally. I can’t… I don’t wanna do that to her.”

“I think she’d appreciate not having to guess what’s in your head all the time. Did you think about that?”

There's a long pause. He hates when Britta’s wrong, but it’s always so much worse when she’s  _ right. _

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well hey, what do I know?” Her goofy smile returned to her face as she relished in her tiny victory. She gestured to herself, “Not a therapist.”

Jeff scoffs. “This better be on the house. That conversation was payment enough.”

“You wish. My boss would murder me. Yeah, did you know he was taking money from my parents, too? What a tool. He’s lucky I need this. That’ll be seven dollars.” 

Jeff rolls his eyes and gives her ten.

——————————

It’s just a bit past midnight when Jeff finally arrives back at the apartment. He gently opens the door to a dark apartment, lit up by a TV playing practically ancient reruns of  _ Golden Girls _ . Jeff crept closer towards the TV, and there she was, wrapped snugly in a warm blanket, fast asleep on the couch. He took a closer look. Her soft, porcelain skin was bathed in the flickering blue lights from the screen before her. Her knees were pulled tight into her chest, as if to protect herself from the world around her. She held a worn stuffed animal tightly to her chest, protecting it in the same way. She was beautiful.

_ She’s so fragile,  _ he thought to himself,  _ I can't be the one to break her. _

He carefully lifted her, blanket and all, off to bed.


End file.
